A Soul of Honor
by Endleas
Summary: The knight-captain Sargon has been forced into a battle to save both the Kingdom and mankind. Yet shadows covering the world are deep; can this lone man protect all that he cherishes? First-time Blade of Darkness fanfict, read and review please!
1. Prologue: Alone

**Hello everyone, Endleas here. This is my first ever fanfict, so I'm hoping you all enjoy it.**

**Please feel free to rate and comment, both negative and positive is welcome. Just try and make it constructive, please!**

**I do not own Severance: Blade of Darkness in any way, shape, or form. All credit goes to Codemasters and the (unfortunately) now-defunct Rebel Act Studios.**

* * *

Prologue: Alone

The world was once paradise. Ahura Mazda had made the world and everything in it so he would not be lonely, and his children, the Gods, lived in their paradise home, free from want. Or, at least... They had thought.

The ruined paradise quivered as it felt the presence of darkness upon it. What few animals remained fled, the trees shuddered in terror and seemed to try and bend away. She could only sigh. She knew what that pervading darkness was. Her brother, her friend-her enemy.

"What right have you to do this?" His voice sounded like a snake, terribly beautiful and yet deadly. Yet she knew he would not harm his dear sister.

"I have every right." She answered quietly. "Father is gone. Your conflict has left him weary. You tempt our creations and turn them into darkness. How many have you pressed into service? How many beasts have you created?"

The presence remained quiet, but she could see the black flames surrounding her, slowly scorching the poor trees.

"That has nothing to do with your actions. You would expell your family? Your brothers and sisters? You would force them away from their home?"

She didn't turn to look. Kneeling in the center of the glade, she merely shook her head. "There is no home left for them here. There is nothing but darkness. This is your doing-do not try to shift blame upon me. It is my love for them-and what we have made-that has lead me to do this."

The black flames burned higher and more intense in his anger. "Very well. Do what you must. Know this, however-your actions will leave your beloved creations alone. There will be no one to guide them in the darkness without our light. And in that darkness they shall turn to me. In the midst of their horror, fighting against my creations, they shall become mine. Your actions are in vain. Do what you must; know well, however, that in doing so you doom the world and all that you have strived to protect."

The black flames of his rage quieted as the dark presence moved away. The trees around her were now wilted and dead. Yet she knew this was the only way to save them, to protect them. The ancient words of Creation flowed from between her beautiful lips as she completed the final words of her ages-long spell. There would be no more pause, no further delays.

"In the name of Ahura Mazda, Father of all, I command my words be heeded. No longer shall the Gods live amongst man. No longer shall we remain. I, Ianna, daughter of the Father, command it be so. Remove us from this place, and never again allow us to return."

The words met silence. For a moment, Ianna felt a tinge of fear-had the words of Creation lost their power? Alas-she soon felt it. An urge. An unspeakable, undeniable urge. It pulled upon her, as a hook pulled forth the fish, and it rent her essence with it's power. She did not resist-she let herself be pulled. Yet as Ianna, daughter of Ahura Mazda, began to leave the world with her family, she whispered only one thing.

"I love you... Be strong."

And then, she was gone. All was still. The moon shined brightly upon that forgotten glade. There was only silence-a horrible, dead silence where it seemed nothing could breathe or move.

Then a single wolf began to sing, a horrified, sorrowful note, joined in by thousands of creatures all over what remained of a once perfect paradise. There was nothing left now.

They were alone.


	2. Chapter 1: Mission

Chapter One: Mission

A gasp tore from Sargon's throat as he was forcefully torn into wakefulness.

The middle-aged knight quickly sat up, drawing a simple dagger from under his pillow as he looked about wildly, expecting an attack from some unknown foe. The action was second nature by then-Sargon had been a veteran of many campaigns under his Lord, the King, and he had learned long ago not to fall into too deep a slumber, lest some honor-less enemy try and slit his throat in the night. Yet Sargon found no enemies here-his simple quarters were empty.

He held his position for a moment, his eyes wildly searching for an unseen enemy before he finally dropped back onto his cot with a grunt. It had been a dream, one of the many he had been receiving as of late. It was always the same-an unknown but beautiful woman talking to some unseen, evil presence before disappearing into the sky to the sound of thousands of baying beasts. Why the scene was haunting his dreams, Sargon didn't know. By now it should've stopped making him wake up in such a manner. He'd had it constantly for the past week, ever since arriving in the fortress of Tel Halaf.

"What are you trying to tell me." He grunted up at the ceiling, as if there was someone there to answer him. Of course, there was no answer; just the sound of a wolf howling at the wan moonlight that cast more shadows than light in Sargon's quarters. Of course there was no answer. There never was.

Finally, Sargon stood up, abandoning the illusion of going back to sleep. It was far too early for anyone besides the watchmen to be awake in the Fortress, but Sargon's mind was ill at ease. There was something odd about this dream, some detail that hadn't been a part of the others. Whatever it was, it eluded the knight's thoughts, and with a grunt Sargon simply went to the small hearth that had come with the room, taking his flint and steel to the tinder that still remained inside. Once the fire was started, he went to the basin near the bunk, taking a moment to just stare down at the water inside, to stare at the reflection of himself.

Deep brown eyes surrounded by crinkled skin stared back at him. His brown hair was already beginning to recede from his forehead, and at several points it had turned grey. Though his eyes looked old, sunken in slightly amongst the winkled skin, it was easy to see there was still fire there-a man who may have been past his prime, but still had the strength to teach the youngsters a thing or two.

Then Sargon sighed as he took up some of the water in his hands and splashed it on his face. Thankfully his beard, thick and full as it was, had escaped the ravaging touches of grey like the rest of his hair had. His wife, several years his junior, had jokingly called him a old man with a young spirit, but right now, the knight just felt old. Though, the thought of his pretty young wife did still offer him some solace; she had said she would be joining him in Tel Halaf within the month and would travel home with him once his mission was complete.

Yet once his mission came to mind, Sargon felt his mood darken, and he sat down again upon his bunk as the memory came back to mind. As a Captain of one of the King's brigades, he had often seen the Knight, and the two were on amicable terms. Yet one night, the king had called him from his quarters, his face solemn. There were no other Captains, no other lords, merely Sargon and the king himself.

_"I have heard troubling reports from the frontier near Tabriz, Captain Sargon." _He'd said, motioning down to a map that was spread open on his table. _"I have heard very little word from Lord Ragnar as of late, and there has been troubling news from scouts in the area that the local goblin and orc tribes have been strangely more active on the borders. The word is that some small, outlying frontier villages have been sacked already. I have sent messages to Lord Kerman in Tel Halaf-I am sending you and a small squad of knights first to Tel Halaf, then to the frontier. Your orders are to ascertain if there is a threat of an orc invasion, and to see just what is going on at Tabriz Fortress. If there is to be a war with the orc tribes, I want my border fortresses to be ready to repel assault."_

Of course, Sargon had done as he was told. That same night, he had gathered a small group of his most trusted subordinates and had them ready to leave by morning. His wife had given him a small send off, but she had whispered worriedly.

_"I feel an ill wind about... Please be careful." _A simple kiss was given. _"I will join you in Tel Halaf within the month, once you are finished with your mission. I love you."_

The last memory caused Sargon to smile, until a sudden, jarring thought entered his mind. Suddenly, Sargon knew why tonight's dream had been stranger than usual, and it made him frown in bemusement.

All the other times, the beautiful woman had simply been staring at the ground sadly as she floated up to the heavens as she uttered her final words. This time, however...

She had looked directly at him.

**

* * *

**

**Sorry for no action yet, for you Severanceholics that may be out there reading this. (Turmio, that one's for you) XD**

**Anyways, please read and review, I'd be happy to read your thoughts and possible ideas for the future.**

**Thanks a bunch!**

**-Endleas**


	3. Chapter 2: Treason

**Hello again, folks, Endleas here with another Blade of Darkness development.**

**But, I've been getting no reviews! *sadface* No reviews means I dunno how I'm doing, and if people likes.**

**So, please review? Plzplz? Thanks.**

**All praise goes to Stolen Princess and March of Shadows from the Eternal Poison OST for giving me the proper tone for this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Treason**

Sargon didn't go back to sleep at all that night. The dream remained firmly stuck in his consciousness, and for all that Sargon tried, he couldn't decipher its meaning. Eventually the knight gave up; taking up his armor and equipment, he left his quarters and went down to Tell Halaf's inner courtyard, where all of the practice dummys were.

Thankfully, the night watchmen knew better than to question, though as he passed, most gave him odd looks of confusion. Not that it mattered; Sargon would hardly have told them what had happened even had they asked. It didn't take him long to find his destination, and when he did, he spent the next several hours training, working on his strikes and evasions, hefting his trusty mace marked with his personal symbol and striking the wooden practice dummys with a fervor one would've expected from a man half his age.

The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when Sargon finally stopped and returned to his quarters. Lord Kerman would be expecting him soon; it wouldn't do to meet the Paladin of the Order of Knights covered in sweat and smelling to the high heavens. When the summons finally did come, Sargon didn't waste any time. He quickly made his way to the center of the fortress, where the Guardians and Paladin-Lord Kerman would be waiting for him. His lieutenant was waiting for him at the entrence to the Guardian's chambers.

"I've been waiting, Captain." The young Lieutenant Yance chuckled. "I would've thought you'd have been here at first light."

Sargon just shook his head. Yance was a younger man, but he was set to replace Sargon himself when the elder knight either finally met his end on the battlefield, or grew too old to remain in active duty. "I was in the training ring." He said, simply. "Where are the others? Were they not asked to join us?"

Yance shook his head, a small frown forming on his youthful features. "No, I suppose not. That worries me-why would the Guardians only send for us? Shouldn't the entire group be briefed?"

This of course made Sargon slightly worried, as well. "I cannot say. However, it is hardly our choice to make. If Lord Kerman and the Guardians wish only to speak to us, then that is their decision. We will go ahead."

Yance nodded his agreement, but still the frown remained on his face. "After you, Captain..."

* * *

The Chamber of the Guardians sat in the very center of Tell Halaf, and served as a final place of retreat should the rest of the Fortress be compromised. It was a functional place; there was little by way of decoration besides some tapestry embroidered with the symbol of the Order of Knights and the personal symbol of Lord Kerman himself. Each of the Guardians were elders of the Order; They had survived countless campaigns and now served as the council that advised the King in military matters reguarding his knights. They themselves were lead by the Paladin of the Order, Lord Kerman. In contrast to the elderly faces of the rest of the Guardians, Lord Kerman was reletively youthful; he'd gained notoriety during the infamous War of the Blade, when he'd helped the Hero of the Blade, Eresh Kegal, in defeating a host of orcs and goblins under the control of a powerful undead creature. He'd just been a simple captain, then, but his actions propelled both himself and his brigade to fame all over the kingdom, and the King and Guardians named him Paladin.

When Sargon and Yance entered, the Guardians were talking quietly amongst themselves, seated at simple wooden tables while they waited for the two to answer the summons. Lord Kerman sat in his throne, his expression somber. This expression didn't lift, even as the two knights entered. He merely stood up, nodding to the two knights, who both kneeled before him.

"Captain Sargon, Lieutenant Yance. Thank you for answering our summons." Kerman's voice was troubled. As he spoke, the Guardians quickly turned their attention to the knights as well. "We bring troubling news reguarding your mission."

One of the Guardians spoke up, his voice reedy. "According to the word sent by our lord, the King, he has already briefed you reguarding the strange movements of the greenskin tribes. However, we have lost contact with the scouts that were feeding us this information. We have no news as to any further movements as of late."

Another spoke. "The presence of knight-scouts in the area was a closely guarded secret of the Order. The Guardians, Lord Kerman himself, the King, and Lord Ragnar were the only ones who knew. The only reason Lord Ragnar knew was due to the fact that they were at first reporting to him, as they were in his domain."

Still kneeling, Sargon frowned darkly into his beard. What could this mean? A thought slowly wormed into his mind, but it was inconcievable... Wasn't it?

And they kept going. "The scouts where there, disguised as civilians, to watch over the orc and goblin tribes after the War of the Blade. Should any strange action occur, they were to report immediately, so that a pre-emptive action could be made. Considering their involvement during the War, this was considered a paramount task."

The eldest Guardian finally spoke, though he had to take several pauses to breathe. "And now, we have no reports. None of the Guardians would dare risk the lives of our scouts. Nor would Lord Kerman. And the King certainly would not seek to blind himself."

Now, Lord Kerman spoke, his voice quiet. "The Guardians and I fear treason, Captain Sargon. With no reports from our scouts and little to no word from Tabriz Fortress, we fear that Lord Ragnar plans treachery against the King. Of course, with no proof on the matter, we cannot send anything even as large as a brigade to investigate these reports. However, given that you are already under orders to seek out the truth in these strange reports, we are placing this task in your hands."

Standing from his throne, Kerman paced to the two kneeling knights. "You will have a second squad attached to your own, Captain Sargon. It will be completely under your command. Seek out the truth, in both the matters of the greenskin tribes and of Lord Ragnar. Once you have done so, return to Tell Halaf immediately to give your report. If Ragnar truely is a traitor, then he must be dealt with, as soon as possible. For your assistance in this, if your report turns out positive... You will be granted command of Tabriz Fortress, for your loyal and long-standing service to the King."

Sargon could hardly believe his ears. He was to be made a noble, in command of his own fortress. Such a thing was almost unheard of! Lord Kerman himself had been the only one that had done the same. But of course, there was the catch, wasn't there? This was hardly a normal mission-it had stopped being one as soon as he had arrived here.

Lord Kerman spoke again. "Arise, Captain Sargon and Lieutenant Yance. You have your assignments. You are to leave in two days time. You will have to travel light, with only a week's provisions. However, I am confident in your success."

Both knights stood and bowed, while each Guardian and Lord Kerman all intoned quietly.

"For the honor of the Knights."


	4. Chapter 3: Ambush

**Hello again everyone, Endleas here.**

**Jeesh, seems even linking this place to Facebook didn't even get me any reviews. Then again... /sad**

**Did some re-working on the last chapter, lemme know how it is.**

**Praise to M.I.A. by Avenged Sevenfold, Voice of the Fallen by Battlelore, and All Nightmare Long by Metalica for tone for this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Ambush**

The day had finally arrived. Sargon's mind and heart was still heavy from the information he'd received two days prior; the thought that Ragnar could be a traitor was one he didn't wish to entertain. That wasn't to say Sargon liked the noble; the few times they'd met, Sargon had classed Ragnar as petty, unnecessarily brutal, and heavy-handed in his dealings. The two had taken a quick dislike to one another quickly. It was a good thing that they rarely had to meet.

Yet still... Treason? While it was true that Ragnar held his position more on the merits of his family name as opposed to his own, Sargon had a hard time believing that he was capable of treason, if only for the fact that he doubted the man had the courage to do so without some serious backing. Yet that was another issue. The fact that the knight-scouts had gone missing while supposedly under his protection was a worrying one, especially while they had been reporting strange orc and goblin movements. Yet so far as he knew, all these were unrelated facts. It was his duty to see the truth in them.

And it was for that reason that he was here today. Clad in his light armor, a mixture of studded leather, chain, and heavy steel pauldrons, he was now standing in one of Tell Halaf's many stables, saddling his grey mare and slipping his rations into his saddlebags. Yance stood in the stall next to him, doing much the same, though he seemed more reserved than he had been two days past. He hadn't said much following their meeting the Guardians, and it seemed since then that the younger knight's spirits were clouded.

"Yance." Sargon said simply. He smiled slightly as his subordinate jumped slightly in the next stall.

"Yes, Captain," Yance said as he turned around. His expression was as clouded as Sargon had thought. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Are you well? You have not been yourself. The news of Ragnar is troubling you?"

For a moment, Yance didn't answer, but he slowly nodded. "Of course, Captain. The thought of someone in command of a fortress turning traitor... It's worrying, to say the least. Not to mention, I'm a little concerned about the other squad's leader. I don't understand what the Guardians are thinking, sending a man from Tabriz with us on a mission like this."

Sargon secretly mirrored his concern. The sergeant, who had revealed his name to be Paus, had a thick accent that spoke volumes of his origins in Ragnar's domain. Not to mention, he had looked like a shifty bastard; his brown hair was stringy, his dark eyes were sunken slightly into his skull, and some of his teeth had been broken and yellow. Yet at the same time, Sargon had an idea of what the Guardians were doing. He just hoped it was worth the potential risk.

"Lord Kerman understood we would need someone who knew both the countryside and Tabriz Fortress itself. Worry not, Yance. I do not believe we are in any danger."

Yance nodded, his face relaxing into a small smile as he turned around to finish the work on his horse. Sargon could only hope his assessment was correct.

* * *

It took them roughly two days to reach the outskirts of the frontier. The ride had been done mostly in silence; the two squads of knights seemed to have little to do with one another. The scenery, however, had been beautiful. Spring had come here, and the rolling hills and valleys of the countryside had bloomed. Trees carrying brilliant green leaves swayed in the wind, and flowers had opened their petals, releasing sweet smells into the air. There had been nothing unusual as the days rolled by; they had seen nothing of possible orc and goblin invasion. The hamlets they passed through greeted the knights with happy smiles and offerings, which sadly, mostly were politely denied.

It was now nearing on the second day. The party of knights had started traversing through more rocky terrain; they were now fully within the Frontier. In another day, they'd likely reach Tabriz Fortress. However, here Sargon began to feel apprehensive; the animals that had been causing happy ruckus all along the way were now strangely silent. Yance seemed to sense this as well. Bringing his horse closer to his captain's, the young lieutenant spoke quietly.

"Something doesn't feel right, sir. The animals are all quiet. The wind is still. I don't like this at all."

Sargon had to agree. "I know. I feel it as well. When we get through this valley, we'll set up camp on the other side. Tonight, watches will be doubled. If there is something nearby, we will be ready."

Yet they came nearer to the large valley ahead, the smell of death began to assault Sargon's nose. His mare snorted as well, letting out a small whinny as it smelled that familiar scent. It didn't take long for them to see the cause; in the center of the valley, there had once been a caravan.

Once being the operative word. The wagons were burned-out husks, and several had become veritable pincushions as dozens of arrows poked from them. Bodies lay everywhere; their blood had soiled the ground in many places. As Sargon saw this, he cursed, digging his heels into his mare's flanks and galloping to the scene of carnage.

"Find any survivors! I want them brought to me immediately!" Each knight in his group complied, yet Sargon's hopes were low. This wasn't the work of bandits; it was much more brutal than it needed to be. Heads, arms, and legs were chopped off of most bodies, even the ones that appeared to have died under a hail of arrows. Yance picked one up and studied it for a moment, then cursed.

"Goblin. These poor bastards were set upon by greenskins. They didn't have a chance."

Sargon uttered a low curse as well. This seemed to prove the reports of goblin and orc tribe movements; yet why this much carnage, and why here? It was a bold move to come so close to a fortress of the Order. Bold, and foolish. Yet suddenly, Sargon heard laughing in the center of the carnage.

It didn't take long to realize who it was. Paus, the man from Tabriz, was holding his face in his hand, chuckling. "Well. I guess those bedamned greenskins did their job well, eh? 'Oo would've thought..."

Ice water poured through Sargon's veins.

"Traitor." Yance growled lowly, drawing his sword from his belt and his shield from his back. Yet Sargon could hear the sound of footsteps... and hooves.

"Horses... It's an ambush! All men, prepare for battle! It's an ambush!" He yelled loudly, drawing his own weaponry. Yet in that moment, everything went to hell.

Arrows whizzed past Sargon's ear as archers placed on the top of the valley's sides began to open fire down on the small party of knights. Several were taken down in the opening volley, letting out screams of pain as arrows smashed through their light armor, dropping them from their mounts. The footsteps Sargon had heard where that of knights; two others were pulled from their mounts as they were suddenly surrounded, hacked to pieces by the knight's merciless blades. Yance, who had begun to charge at Paus, was suddenly fighting for his life against several assailants, some waving boathooks and trying to pull him from his mount, others seeking to kill his horse to bring him down. Several more mounted knights appeared, each carrying long lances as they charged at the few survivors that were left; try as they might, there was nothing they could do to spare themselves from their fates, met on the cruel tips of traitor knight's lances.

Sargon himself had long ago gone into action. His horse let out a scream of pain as several arrows found their ways into his chest and flanks; more then a couple had bounced off of his pauldrons or had been deflected from his shield. His horse met his end by the blade of a traitor knight; Sargon was forced to dive from it, tackling two knights as his mare reared one last time, screaming it's defiance before finally dropping to it's side.

The two knights had been unprepared for Sargon's tackle; both met their end swiftly as Sargon picked himself up and introduced his mace to their faces. Yet there were still far more; Sargon ducked beneath an overhand blow meant to remove his head from his shoulders, returning with a strike to the knee of his assailant with his mace, followed by a bone-crunching up-swing that caught the man right on the chin. That man dropped, but another replaced him, his axe swinging an arc towards his arm. This blow was barely parried by Sargon's shield, but his counter blow was decisive, smashing through the knight's helmet, liquefying the traitor's brain.

Yet Sargon could see that for each he killed, there were two more coming. There was no way to win.

"Yance! Yance! Can you hear me?" He called as two more traitor knights came to challenge him.

Yance's answer was quick; a gladius took off one of the traitor's legs at the knee before he stepped back-to-back with his captain. "I'm here! What will we do, captain?"

Sargon growled lowly. "There's nothing we can do. Retreat now. Warn Tell Halaf of Ragnar's treachery. If they are not given word, the Order will fall!"

Yance seemed about ready to argue, but his sword was knocked from his hand by a traitor knight wielding an axe. This was quickly removed from his possession; Yance's new axe took off the traitor's head with a swift stroke.

"But captain-"

"Do as I say!" Sargon growled as his shield took another blow, answering with a low swing at the sender's knee with his mace.

Finally, Yance nodded. There was a small opening where Yance's axe wielder had been; he quickly took it, running as fast as his armor would allow. Arrows followed his steps, but Yance was always one step ahead. Sargon offered a small prayer under his breath to the Spirit of Light that he came out safely.

Yet this distraction was all the traitors needed. Someone crept up behind Sargon, yet before the middle-aged knight could do anything to address this new threat, he felt sharp pain as the hilt of a sword slammed into the back of his head. He fell without a sound.

* * *

When Sargon's eyes finally opened, he saw Paus hanging over him, his broken teeth fixed in a rictus grin. "Ye put on one 'elluva fight, cap." He clapped a couple times. "S' a good thing Ragnar gave us orders to take you alive. I dunno why. But I think you'll be seein' pretty soon, eh?"

Sargon's vision flickered unsteadily. Paus looked to the other knights around him. "Bind 'im, take off 'is armor and take 'is weapon. We got orders to bring this scum to Tabriz." The other knights did as he said quickly, but Sargon could barely even register what was being done to him.

He had failed. He had failed, and now his men had fallen. All under Ragnar's command.

"Traitor..." He mumbled to himself, before the darkness claimed his sight again.


End file.
